


Conversation

by HedgehogTurtle



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: ayo minecraft brain rot checkkkk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-13 22:47:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28785927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HedgehogTurtle/pseuds/HedgehogTurtle
Summary: Technoblade runs into Dream, who was waiting for someone else.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 15





	Conversation

**Author's Note:**

> This is probably just gonna be a One And Done thing, unless this gets a lot of positive attention for some reason hdkshfk
> 
> Anyways, I had fun writing this short, short story, and I hope you enjoy!

A light breeze flitted through the spruce trees, it’s carefree dance causing small tufts of freshly-fallen snow to tumble off the dark branches and fall silently towards the white ground. Somewhere among the snow, a cardinal called once before waiting for an answer. Twice, when none came. Somewhere far off, the song of wind chimes was muted by the fluffy white snow that powdered the earth and shimmered in the early morning sunlight.  
That same breeze tousled with the dirty blonde tuft of hair that stuck out of Dream’s hood and fell just in front of his white mask and played with the ends of his cape. Otherwise, he was still amongst the trees and frost, the tiny eye holes in his mask staring into the treeline and into the thin fog beyond. A netherite axe was carelessly resting atop one shoulder, a gloved hand lightly gripping the handle, the fingers absently, carefully tracing atop the smooth material.  
Again, the cardinal’s call sang, but did not echo or ring through the trees.  
One could assume the masked man was lying in wait for something. For what, exactly, could be anyone’s guess. He could be waiting for someone or for something to happen. An opportunity to act.  
Perhaps he was hunting.  
The persistent breeze fell dormant, and if one were looking at Dream from a distance, he might be mistaken for a statue, the cloth of his cape and hood carved out of marble or wood.  
The windchime fell still.  
The forest was silent, frozen in time. For a long while, nothing stirred.

“What is it you want, exactly?” A voice, monotone, cut through the silence viciously.  
Unaffected, Dream turned, his leather boots crunching through the snow as he redistributed his weight. Before him was a piglin. A large piglin with long tusks, yellowed slightly with age. Whose crowned head was haloed and protected by a massive collar of white fur that trailed along the hem of his thick red coat that was stark against the white of the snow. The piglin’s small eyes peered at Dream over gold-rimmed, rectangular glasses, unemotive.  
“Well,” Dream responded, voice just as quiet amongst the trees. Just as deadly. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”  
Technoblade’s eyes narrowed just slightly, “Why are you here?” His monotonous tone bit at these words. “This is my territory. Last time you were here, you were lookin’ for Tommy. Then you came here for supplies to destroy L’Manburg,” at the mention of the young boy’s name, the piglin’s tone went venomous, betraying his facade. “That’s behind us now. I’ve done what I needed to do, and I don’t plan on doin’ anythin’ else.”  
Dream’s mask remained emotionless as Technoblade loomed over him and asked again, “What’re you doin’ here?”  
Once again, the cardinal broke through the brief silence with it’s short song. Dream’s head tilted towards the side; perhaps where he assumed the source of the noise was.  
“I’m not here for you,” He said simply after a brief pause. “Honestly, I didn’t expect to run into you, today.” This made the other’s thick brows furrow in a mix of suspicion and confusion.  
“No one else is out here,” Technoblade replied, straightening his posture. “‘Cept me, ‘n Phil. Sometimes Ranboo.” Dream’s mask shifted back so he was looking at the large piglin again. Technoblade couldn’t help the way his jaw tightened as the beady eyes of that mask stared at him blankly. Dream only hummed thoughtfully before continuing.  
“Where are they now?” He asked, and Technoblade wished he could see his face so he could grasp at least an assumption of what was running through the man’s head.  
“I’m not a babysitter,” Technoblade scoffed, tilting his head up slightly, as if the idea were ridiculous. “I don’t care where they go.”  
“And you didn’t answer my question,” He continued, his fists clenching and unclenching underneath his red coat. “Why are you here.”  
Dream started, “I already-”  
“No, you told me what you weren’t here for,” the piglin’s voice lifted a little with his growing frustration, his shoulders squaring as he began to lean threateningly over the smaller man once again. “Give me a good reason as to why I shouldn’t send you back to spawn.” Eventually, Technoblade’s voice lowered to a low growl, his tusks glinting in the pale sunlight.  
Even more frustrating was Dream’s constant lack of reaction. He just stared up at the beast through that eerie mask, which continued smiling, undeterred.  
Through the dark spruce, Technoblade could feel that gentle wind start to pick up again, tickling his snout and nipping at his torn and scarred ears, playing with the ends of the white furs on his coat.  
Somewhere far off, the song of wind chimes was muted by the snow.


End file.
